There's a New Vampire King. I Am So Screwed.

~Luke's POV~

I grinned. "This is fucking brilliant, man! Do you really think it'll work?"

"Hello? I came up with it! Of course it will work." Glen was sporting a cocky grin on his face. He always came up with the best plans in the world, and he knew it too. His ego was absolutely huge. Almost as big as his sister's.

"Well, we'll get it in motion as soon as we can."

"Starting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What are we doing tonight?"

"We're going to have fun." Oh boy. This was one thing I always hated about Glen. For all that brain he had in his head, you would think he would be sensible too. But no. He was an absolute party animal. He would spend a few days coming up with the most brilliant plan you had ever heard, and then waste the rest of the week away with alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Before I had a chance to protest, he had dragged me completely out of the palace. We walked casualy for a few minutes in the forest before we made it to the street (there was no street leading to the werewolf palace, because we didn't want humans discovering it). Sitting there was a huge garage with all of the most luxurious cars you can think of. When we were with the werewolves we were down t earth, but as soon as a werewolf was mingling with humans they forgot all of that and spent gallons of money making sure they looked respectable. It was ridiculous.

We picked the dark blue Ferrari and made our way to a random club. Well, not quite random, because appaenty it was Glen's favorite. I couldn't say I was surprised when I examined it. It was absolutely wild, with strobe lights and neon lights and all sorts of fog machines and everything you could imagine to deck it out. Everyone was wearing glowing body paint or glow sticks. Everywhere you looked there were people dancing and grinding on each other, usually while downing a drink.

The air stunk of ecstacy and alcohol, and I scrunched my nose in disgust. I hated the smell of alcohol. Most werewolves couldn't stand it, but somehow Glen was able to push back the distaste from the smell and drink an impressive amount. I rolled my eyes and followed him to a booth. He went to go get drinks while I pretty much sulked in the corner. I was the king of the werewolves, and I let myself be pushed around by Glen so easily. Although, I must admit, hardly anyone could resist him.

Glen had a way with people. His personality was so addictive, and everyone found themselves being pulled into it. It was just irresistable, and everyone wanted to make him smile. I kind of wished somebody sometime would be able to resist him and would shove him in the dirt, but at the same time I really didn't want to be there when it happened. Seeing Glen sad was like seeing an angel cry. It was just unthinkable, and horrific. Nobody wanted to see it.

He soon came back with drinks that stung my nose, but I forced down my throat anyways. the more I drank, the less I could smell and therefore the less the smells stung my nose.

It wasn't long before Glen had to go back for more drinks. We were both officially smashed. briefly I wondered how we were going to get home. although really, it didn't matter if we drove because the roads we would be taking were very remote and nobody would see. And if we crashed into a tree, it wouldn't really matter. We would heal very quickly and we could always buy another Ferrari.

Although one benefit about being a werewolf is that sobriety came very quick. Our livers worked faster than a human's liver and healed back to the way it was before. So by the time we arrived at the car, we were both sober. Glen literally hopped into the passenger set, like a child, pushing his addictive personality to the limit. I sighed and slid in after him and we were half way back to the palace when he suddenly turned the key to cut the engine and stole the keys. "What do you want?"

"I want to drive." He pouted until I huffed out a sigh and forced myself to unclench my hands and switch spots with him. I regretted it immediately after I had done so. He drove like an absolute maniac. He was going at least 200 mph. I closed my eyes tightly as he took a sharp turn and the tires squealed in protest.

We arrived at the garage and whizzed into it. I hyperventilated a little before rushing out of the car and running back to the palace, where it was safe. I plopped onto the bed and found myself falling asleep just as the sun rose.